


A Question of Destiny

by statamater



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Infidelity, Jim and Spock are being ridiculous, M/M, Rough Sex, Roughhousing, Slash, Unresolved Sexual Tension, basically alcoholism, no but really there is a lot of swearing here, pottymouth!Kirk, see author's note please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statamater/pseuds/statamater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They say we make our own destinies now,” says Hikaru.</p><p>Nyota nods. She turns from him to look at Spock, who is frowning into his console and gesturing for the Captain. </p><p>Hikaru looks back over his shoulder as Kirk crosses to stand next to Spock. “It doesn’t really feel like it,” he says to Nyota, not looking at her but knowing she is also watching. Kirk clamps his hand down on Spock’s thigh, much to Spock’s bewilderment. Kirk laughs. </p><p>“I know exactly what you mean,” says Nyota.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kirk

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know how to tag this in a way that is helpful or appropriate. Unresolved issues ahoy! I am tempted to call this the BadChoices!AU.
> 
> If you are wanting to get invested in something with a happy romantic ending, this is not that story.
> 
> However, if you want to read a lot about people being desperate and confused and making a shit-ton of inappropriate decisions, this is my gift to you.
> 
> P.S. Sorry about all the commas.
> 
> P.P.S. [Added 12/14/12, and is spoilery and, IMO, is more than I'd like to know about author intentions so skip this if you just want to read it] Now that the story arc is mapped out, I feel like I can give a more complete warning for this so those who are not interested or will not enjoy it (or would be upset by it in a way that they would like to not be upset) can just pass on by. So if you are not sure this story is for you and would like more information, here it is:
> 
> I basically sat down and I said to myself, "Self, what would it look like if the consequence of Nero's timeline disruption was that Kirk's first, best destiny (and here understood as not only to Captain a starship, but to explore space and encounter new civilizations with Spock and McCoy at his side) got completely and utterly fucked?"
> 
> And my answer was, well, Kirk would probably just keep on going the way he acted in that bar in Iowa, except some assholes actually put him in charge of a goddamn starship. So this story presents a Kirk so narcissistic he can't see he's destroying himself, never mind everyone else, a Spock who doesn't understand him, and a McCoy who is too exhausted to intervene. This happens despite the fact that they, and everyone else on the Enterprise, really do like each other and want things to go well (i.e., this is not Mirrorverse). These issues will not be resolved to the full satisfaction of most readers, so if thinking about a world where the mighty triumvirate is dysfunctional bothers you, I cannot stress this enough, get out. Get out now. 
> 
> (Oh, and I also figured this would result in pretty fair amount of Kirk/Sulu smut because, well, _Hikaru Sulu._ )

It turns out that if you win your military stripes by disobeying every order and charging directly into the line of fire, the people in charge pretty much never let you get near action again. Which, for James Kirk, presents a bit of a problem, since he was born ready. No, but for real- his mother told him a thousand times about how they gave her drugs to delay labor, but as soon as the first torpedo was fired on the _Kelvin_ Kirk was on his way. Nothing could keep him from a fight, not even the fact that he wasn’t actually born yet. So it’s amusing that the Admiralty try. 

Well, it’s amusing at first. 

“Fuck!”

Kirk slams his hand against the console.

“Jesus fucking Christ, these assholes.”

“Sir?” Hikaru turns to face the Captain.

“I didn’t sign up for this shit,” says Kirk. 

“Sir?” says Hikaru again. Kirk ignores him. He can’t bear the earnestness. Then Chekov turns towards him too, and Jesus Christ, that guy is even worse. Kirk can’t sit here right now.

“Mister Spock, with me.” Kirk gets up and heads for the turbolift. “Mister Sulu, you have the conn.”

“Yes, sir.” Hikaru turns back to the console. 

Spock turns to Kirk as the turbolift doors close. “Captain?”

“I don’t actually have any orders for you, Spock, so stop looking at me like that.” Kirk considers the control panel, but he’s not sure where he wants to go exactly. “I just didn’t want to sit on the bridge anymore.”

“Ah,” says Spock. He is silent for a moment, then he reaches across Kirk’s arm and presses the stop button. Kirk turns to him. Spock simply inclines his head. “I have observed that sometimes humans come in here to… talk.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Kirk sighs. “I’m just really fucking sick of these milk runs. I want to get out there, do something! There’s a war brewing, can’t you feel it?”

Spock considers Kirk, but does not answer. 

“Right,” says Kirk. “I’m sure you can’t. Sorry, strange turn of phrase to use on a Vulcan.”

“No, sir,” says Spock. “I understand what you are asking, despite the interesting language Humans use to express themselves. I too can see the signs of a conflict approaching.”

“Why are they keeping me in the dark, Spock? The admiralty-“

“-Are just doing what they think is best.” Spock folds his hands behind his back. “May I speak freely, sir?”

“Of course, Spock.”

“You have a limited concept of what it means to ‘do’ something.”

Kirk laughs. “You really do speak freely, don’t you?” Spock presses his lips together. “Right, well, go on then.”

“I simply mean, sir, that there are many things one can do to prepare for war, including avoiding it altogether. Has it occurred to you that these ‘milk runs,’ as you call them, might serve a diplomatic purpose?”

“Of course it has occurred to me,” says Kirk. “I’m just really fucking sick of them. This isn’t really my strong suit. _”_

“Sir…” Spock looks, briefly, frustrated. Or perhaps sad. Kirk can’t really tell, and it is gone quickly. 

“Yes?” says Kirk.

“It might not…” Spock clears his throat. “It might not be about you, sir.”

Kirk looks at Spock. “Oh, fuck. Of course. Right.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kirk looks at his boots, then back at Spock. He is not going to feel embarrassed. “Do you think they are trying to keep you safe, or do you think it’s the symbolism they like?”

Spock sighs. “To be honest, I don’t know. The whole system is just too illogical for me to sort out the finer points.”

“Well,” says Kirk, clapping one hand on Spock’s shoulder and reaching for the stop button. The turbolift slides back into motion. “Better give them what they want.” He looks at Spock for a moment. “Hey, do you think this is what he meant?”

“He?”

“You, Spock, the other one, I mean. About our destined friendship. Human and Vulcan, standing together? Symbol of peace and unification?”

Spock pauses. “No,” he says. “I think that is why my father agreed to let my mother give birth to me.”

“Oh,” says Kirk. He lets himself feel embarrassed then, just for the two seconds that pass before the lift doors open and they spill back onto the bridge. 


	2. Sulu

When he thinks about it later, Hikaru would say without hesitation that the _Enterprise’s_ five year mission went bad nine months in. He knows most of the crew would say that things started going downhill when Spock got sick and they had to run him home to New Vulcan, but that's not right. Hikaru pays attention, it’s literally his job to watch where they are going, and he can say with all the authority of a helmsman that the first wrong turn happened during the summit on New Vulcan.

It starts because the _Enterprise_ is assigned to some sort of diplomatic babysitting mission. The settlers on New Vulcan are fighting back serious anti-Federation dissidents in their own ranks (including, Hikaru heard, T’Pau herself) and so the admiralty decides an appearance of the Starfleet flagship would do wonders for their public image. Plus the _Enterprise_ has the only Vulcan crewmember in the whole armada (and again, Hikaru heard Spock is actually related to T’Pau, but that was only from Chekov, and that guy might be a genius but Hikaru can’t shake the fact that he’s baby-faced and gullible as anything). The _Enterprise_ just has to be in orbit for the duration, so most of the crew isn’t too put out by the assignment, but Kirk and Spock actually have to attend the whole thing in dress uniforms pinned full of shiny new medals. Nyota goes down for the opening ceremony with Spock but beams up early with her makeup smudged and then finishes a shift on the bridge. She doesn’t return to the surface again, and won’t tell Hikaru or Chekov why, but she spends a lot of time monitoring the news channels and he catches snippets of the Vulcan separatists being interviewed. Although no one on either side looks favorably on Spock’s decision to remain in Starfleet, it seems that it really galled the separatists when he showed up dating a Human.

Hikaru has just gotten off shift and gone down to visit with Chekov in the transporter room when Kirk and Spock return from the first day full of meetings. Spock asks Chekov where Lieutenant Uhura is, and then sweeps out of the room. Spock seems relatively unruffled. He’s genetically predisposed towards that sort of thing. Kirk, however, bereft of the composure granted to ordinary humans, never mind to half-Vulcans, is clearly chafing under the pressure of the situation. Kirk’s eyes follow him and his mouth twists, and Hikaru looks away because for a minute it feels like prying. 

“Hey, Sulu!” Kirk calls out, just as Hikaru was thinking of leaving. “Want to hit the gym?”

Hikaru looks back at Kirk then. Kirk’s eyes are very blue, almost mischievous. Hikaru hesitates, thinking of the long nap he had planned, but then Kirk grins and Hikaru tells himself that going to the gym at this hour is the least he can do for a guy who saved his life at least twice over in the span of eight minutes. 

“Sure,” says Hikaru. “Meet you down there.”

* * *

Kirk is stretching on the mat but he stands when Hikaru arrives. Kirk is shirtless and his gym shorts are rolled over at the top, one hipbone sticking out. 

Hikaru reminds himself to breathe.

(Ok, putting altruism aside, because it’s not really altruistic if you aren’t clear how much the other guy is in need, Hikaru has his own reasons for agreeing to spar with Kirk today, and none of them are, strictly speaking, good.)

“Ok, let’s do this,” says Kirk, clapping his hands together in front of his bare chest. 

“Mixed?” Hikaru asks, decidedly not looking at the trail of hair under Kirk’s navel. “Or straight boxing?”

“No,” says Kirk. “I want you to teach me to fence.”

“Um,” says Hikaru. “I didn’t bring my gear.” 

“It’s a starship, Sulu,” says Kirk. He flips open the storage chest in the corner. “Will these do?” He holds up two long polished sticks. Hikaru thinks they are some sort of weapon used in the Berrusian dance-fighting the science officers favor. 

“Yeah, okay, sure,” says Hikaru, and takes them. He wraps one end of each with tape and hopes he’s not affronting Berrusian tradition.

“Stand there, turn sideways.” He gestures to one end of the mat. Kirk obeys. “Good. Now catch.” He pitches the lighter of the two sticks at Kirk, who catches it one handed. “Good. Now, let’s see if you can keep that balance.” Hikaru lunges at Kirk. It’s not the best way to teach technique, but he has to know where Kirk’s instincts are and he’s not about to just ask Kirk. Something about the captain makes Hikaru think he might not be the best judge of his own limits.

Kirk springs back, bringing his stick up to meet Hikaru’s and pushing it aside. Hikaru nods, then lunges again, sweeping low this time, and Kirk jumps. Hikaru rolls and turns, bringing his stick up to the back of Kirk’s head, but Kirk’s stick is already there. “Good,” says Hikaru, pulling back. “That’s-"

He’s not even sure what he was going to say before Kirk charges him, eyes blazing. “Wait-“ he says, dodging and letting Kirk pass him unharmed, but Kirk grunts as he bounces off the wall and turns on Hikaru again. Kirk holds the stick like a baseball bat then swings full force at Hikaru’s torso, so Hikaru flattens himself to the floor, then turns to try and kick Kirk’s feet from under him. Kirk takes advantage of the sudden height difference and rains down blows on Hikaru’s shoulders. Hikaru gets to his feet, abandons fencing stance and takes the stick in both hands, one at each end, pushing forward to try and pin Kirk. It’s all he can do to meet each of Kirk’s strikes, and one of them connects so hard it rattles down Hikaru’s elbows and into his teeth. He hears something crack.

“Oh, fuck,” says Kirk. He steps back. “I’m sorry, I think-"

“No, I’m fine.” says Hikaru. “It was the stick.”

“Yeah, ok.” Kirk sits on the mat. “I guess I’m still angry.”

Hikaru sits next to him. “Fun mission, eh?”

Kirk puts his head in his hands. “People hate us.”

Hikaru nods. He saw those broadcasts on Nyota’s console. 

“I mean, I knew some people see Spock as some sort of blood traitor,” Kirk says, mostly to the floor. “But I had no idea.” He looks at Hikaru then, and his eyes are bright. “And Uhura… I couldn’t-"

“She’s okay,” says Hikaru, suddenly. He’s not sure why he says it. 

“Oh,” says Kirk. “Good.” He pauses, considering.“I just… I want to do right by everyone, you know? But Starfleet regs don’t exactly cover what to do when…” Kirk circles his hand in the air. Hikaru nods. “Plus, what the fuck do I know about being a captain anyway?” Kirk shakes his head. Hikaru looks at him. He is flexing his fingers, grasping at the stick. 

Hikaru sighs. He doesn’t know why this always happens to him. His sister says he just has one of those faces. He doesn’t know what the hell she means, but apparently something about his face makes people want to tell him things that make Hikaru extremely uncomfortable. He would have made a good therapist, she says, or a detective, if he had the temperament. He doesn’t, though, so he joined Starfleet, because in the military you can deflect.

“I don’t know about that, sir.” Hikaru stands. “But your fencing stance blows.”

“Fuck you, Sulu,” says Kirk. He jumps to his feet, grinning. “Give me three weeks and I’ll kick your ass.”

“I look forward to it, sir.” 

Kirk is flushed and happy when he leaves their training session that evening, and is still grinning, albeit grumpily, when he stops by the bridge before he and Spock beam back down to the second day of the summit. His regular reports to the bridge throughout the day are appropriately snarky, but then increasingly sullen and terse, and then cease altogether right before Hikaru’s shift ends. Hikaru thinks, somewhat foolishly, that Kirk is just bored, until Chekov tells him later that Kirk came back to the Enterprise so drunk Spock had to basically carry him off the transporter pad and put him to bed. (Hikaru would doubt this but Chekov was actually in the transporter room flirting with one of the maintenance crew at the time, and Chekov may be naive about some things but he knows from drunk.) 

On the third day of the summit Kirk declares he doesn’t need anyone else to go with him, and so Spock stays behind on the bridge. Hikaru is on beta shift and sees Spock briefly at shift change when Hikaru is getting out of the ‘lift and Spock is getting in. Spock looks pretty much like he always does, which is to say that he looks stern and mildly exasperated. Kirk’s only contact with the bridge is when he informs them he’s beaming aboard. Chekov looks at Hikaru then, and Hikaru shrugs. Apparently Chekov thinks that Hikaru has some obligation to check on Kirk, but Hikaru isn’t sure that’s what’s going on. Still, in the wee hours of the morning before the fourth day of the summit when Kirk decides the best way to handle the circumstances is to get on the comm and use his Captain Kirk command voice to wake Hikaru up for a session in the gym, Hikaru agrees. 


	3. Sulu

Hikaru is headed to the mess hall, hoping that there is still some of the food left from that meeting they hosted with the Andorians. One of the only good things about permanent diplomatic mission duty is all of the non-replicated leftovers. He’s just come to the end of the corridor when he hears the distinct sound of crying. He tries to ignore it, but that’s just not possible once he realizes he really won’t enjoy his food, replicated or not, if he imagines someone is locked alone in a room crying while he’s having dinner. He stops, then presses the button next to a small room marked “Supply.” 

Nyota is inside, sitting on a upended crate on the floor. She stands when the door slides back, wiping her eyes.

“Hi,” says Hikaru. He is uncomfortable all of a sudden. Why did he think this was a good idea again? 

“Sorry,” says Nyota. “I just-“

“No, it’s fine. It’s my fault.“ says Hikaru.  He clears his throat. “Do you want- to- ah, talk about it?”

Nyota starts to laugh then, weakly. “Oh Christ, no, but I appreciate you offering.”

“Okay, then,” Hikaru nods. “Do you want me to stay?”

Nyota’s mouth twitches. She raises one hand and tugs on her ear. Hikaru notices dark marks on her neck.

“Are those _hickeys?_ ” he says, before he can stop himself. 

“Ah,” Nyota covers her throat with her hand. “Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” says Hikaru. “Clearly not my business, it’s just… I wouldn’t have figured Spock for the type.”

“He’s not, usually.” Nyota turns to one of the supply shelves, then pushes a box to one side and reaches towards the back wall. “Lately, though- I’m not sure what’s going on.” She pulls her arm back, a small tube clutched triumphantly in one hand. “But it’s gotten…” she shrugs, twisting the tube and pressing it to her neck.

“So that you’re hiding dermal regenerators in random supply rooms?” says Hikaru.

“Yes, exactly.” She twists the tube off and puts it back on the shelf.

“Not the worst problem in the world,” says Hikaru. Nyota’s mouth twitches again, and she drops back down to the crate. “Oh, dammit, sorry, I was just joking.”

Nyota presses her fingers to her lips. “I just feel so ridiculous,” she says. “But it’s… he’s…” she looks up at Hikaru then. “I’m worried about him. He’s not sleeping. When we…” she gestures to the air and Hikaru nods his head to show he understands. “He’s really intense, but then he withdraws. And this this morning,” her voice starts to waiver, “I brought him some breakfast because I knew he hadn’t slept and he was meditating and he was angry I interrupted him and he…” she mimes throwing a plate of food at the wall. 

“Jesus,” says Hikaru. “Nyota, that’s…”

“I know,” she says. “But he’s _Vulcan_. They have different ideas about privacy and…” She buries her face in her hands. “He’s never like this. Never. He’s so reserved, and attentive, and mild. Something’s wrong, I know it.”

“Did you ask him?”

“I did, well, not today, last week I asked and he said he was fine.”

“Not one to talk about his feelings much, I bet,” says Hikaru, wryly.

“Not particularly, no,” says Nyota. And then, almost to herself, “Not with me, anyway.”

“Who with, if not with you?”

Nyota doesn’t answer for a long time. Then she looks up at him. “You and the Captain are close, right?”

“Me and Kirk?” says Hikaru, taken aback. “Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if a guy jumps off a space drill to save your life, you kind of have to be nice to him.” He grins.

Nyota nods slowly. Hikaru gets the sense there is something else to be said here but isn't sure by whom. She waits for him to go on, but he really doesn’t know what else to say, or what she wants him to say. Finally, after a few tortured minutes, she stands and brushes her hands on her skirt. Then she rubs her neck. “All clear?” she says.

Hikaru looks at her neck. The bruises are almost invisible. “Yep,” he says. 

“Let’s get out of here. People will talk.” She flips a grin, and it is almost convincing. Hikaru lets her go out of the doorway first, then follows her. 

* * *

Later, after he has tried to forget all of this and mind his own business for several very frustrating hours, he gives in and comms Kirk to see if Kirk wants a fencing lesson. Kirk tells him he’ll swing by after his shift, which he does, but he instead of gym gear he’s carrying a stack of holodiscs. 

“Change of plans,” says Kirk. “How do you feel about cowboy movies?”

“Uh,” says Hikaru. 

“Oh, don’t make me order you,” says Kirk. “I’ve had a hell of a day, and I’d like to sit down and watch some people get shot. Or,” he holds up a disc, “stabbed, if you prefer. I’ve got some swashbuckler ones in here too.”

Hikaru is silent, and he must have looked apprehensive, because then Kirk adds, “And I’ve had the crew from the mess send up the last of the dessert bar from the meeting with the Andorians. It’s waiting for us up in the ready room.” He smiles then, his eyes flashing, and whatever fleeting thought Hikaru had that made him hesitate is gone.

“Let me change,” says Hikaru, gesturing to his workout clothes.

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” says Kirk. Then he winks. “And you’re fine just the way you are.”

Hikaru, against all his better judgement, shivers.


	4. Kirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BadChoices!AU, remember? Okay? Okay.

Kirk has felt a lot of things about Spock since they met. None match the complete and utter fucking bewilderment he feels at this moment.

“After all that crap at the summit, are you seriously telling me T’Pau is going to officiate your marriage to a human?”

Spock draws breath in. “Arrangements have been made,” he says.

“The passive voice? Really?” Kirk laughs. “You can’t even say ‘we made arrangements?’ or ‘I made arrangements?’” He leans forward, because there is a muscle twitching in Spock’s face. “Or was it not actually your idea?”

Spock is silent.

“Holy fuck, Spock, it wasn’t, was it?”

Spock remains silent, but he inclines his head slightly.

“Jesus,” says Kirk. “And Uhura? Are you sure she can- I mean, are you sure you want-”

“Nyota has been incredibly understanding,” Spock says. “We both request medical leave for three standard days following the ceremony.”

“Both of you?” says Kirk.

“Yes,” says Spock, and after Kirk glares at him, he adds: “I would prefer not to go into the details.”

“Don’t make me order you, Spock,” Kirk says, and he’s decided that’s not the same as begging.

Spock presses his lips together. “The _plak tow_ is an incredibly fertile time for Vulcan males. However, considering my desire to remain a part of Starfleet, and the commitment I made to Nyota prior to this… onset, it is not logical for me to bond with a Vulcan female.” Spock pauses, frowning. “In fact, no one is certain if it would be possible. Nyota and I do not wish to raise children at this time, and given the scarcity of full-blooded Vulcan males and the fact that successful reproductive copulation requires the presence of one’s bondmate-”

“Oh Jesus Christ, enough, stop, stop.” Kirk rubs his hand over his face. “We’ll get you there in twelve hours.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Spock stands to leave. “And I would prefer if-”

“I won’t tell anyone,” says Kirk. “Dismissed.”

Spock leaves.

It takes Kirk eleven hours to deliver on his first promise and fourteen shots of Scotty’s boiler room homebrew to break the second.

* * *

“He married her,” Kirk says into the table.

“What?” Kirk isn’t sure who answers him.

“Spock. He married Uhura, on the colony.” Kirk opens one eye and a gold shirt comes into focus. “And now he’s going to fuck half of New Vulcan.”

“Ah,” says the gold shirt in Hikaru’s voice. Kirk considers him through one heavy-lidded eye. He’s the only one left at the table, now. Kirk doesn’t care to remember when everyone else left. Hikaru’s hands are in front of him, turning a half-empty glass in tight controlled circles. His fingers are long and blunt, with wide knuckles and thickly padded fingertips. Kirk is seized by a powerful urge to reach out and grab Hikaru’s hand, make him stop turning the glass and pay attention. Hikaru doesn’t talk much and for some reason that makes Kirk think that Hikaru maybe doesn’t care, and suddenly Kirk is really sad and a little bit angry. Kirk thinks about how sometimes when they spar he can feel the muscles in Hikaru’s thighs, and the weight of Hikaru on his back, pressing him down into the mat. He looks up at Hikaru’s face. Now he wants to grab Hikaru’s hair, pull back his head, expose the skin of his throat, open his wet, red mouth and…fuck, Kirk is really drunk.

And Sulu is really, really hot.

Kirk groans and puts his head in his hands again.


	5. Sulu

Objectively, it is impressive that Jim Kirk is still conscious right now, never mind reasonably coherent. Hikaru is drinking beer, but Kirk is drinking something else. It might be whisky, or Antaran wine, or secret Iowa backwoods moonshine for all Hikaru can tell. Hikaru isn’t ever overly impressed by other people’s ability to tolerate alcohol and, accordingly, never engages in this particular male bonding ritual, but he has seen Chekov drink the entire security team under the tables of the mess hall on more than one occasion. Chekov’s preferred poison is vodka, appropriately, high proof and clear and cold. Whatever Kirk is drinking makes Chekov’s paint peeler smell like weak tea. 

In any case, even if Hikaru was the sort to think it was sexy that a guy could hold his alcohol, and his scale of ability wasn’t permanently skewed by Chekov’s superhuman consumption, and Kirk had been the sort of man who tried to gain the respect of his crew by outdrinking them, this is not the setting for it. Drinking contests should be belligerent or boisterous or flirty. This has all the marks of a long descent into madness. Especially since, by all reports, Kirk has been morose and sullen ever since they left Spock and Uhura on New Vulcan two days ago. Thinking about that reminds him of what Kirk just said, and his stomach sours. Hikaru really should have excused himself earlier because being the last one left awake with the Captain on this particular evening looks more and more like it will be unpleasant. 

Kirk is still slumped forward, head in hands. He has been silent for a long time. Hikaru hopes briefly that he has passed out.

“You think I don’t remember you,” says Kirk, voice muffled by his arms. “But I do.”

“Sir?” says Hikaru.

“Jim,” says Kirk, turning his face up. “Too drunk for bullshit right now.”

“All the same,” says Hikaru. “You should sleep it off, sir.” 

“You’re changing the subject,” says Kirk. He blinks his eyes. Hikaru can smell the alcohol wafting off of him. Kirk points a finger towards Hikaru’s chest. “Why are you acting like you don’t remember?”

Hikaru sighs. “Sir…” Kirk pokes him. “Jim.” 

Kirk smiles in a way that makes his eyes crease until they are almost closed. “Is it because I didn’t say anything?”

“It was a long time ago,” says Hikaru. “And I thought you’d prefer-”

“I wouldn’t,” says Kirk, leaning back. The chair creaks precariously and Hikaru’s throat tightens.

“Jim, I-” Kirk’s eyes are dark and glassy. “I wasn’t sure at first. You look different with hair.”

Kirk’s mouth raises on one side and he snorts. “Did your girlfriend forgive you?”

“For making out with a random plebe during orientation?” says Hikaru. “Or for getting a hand job in the shower from some other blue-eyed corn-fed farm boy six months later?”

Kirk tilts his head. “Interesting,” he says. He stretches both arms in front of him, bracing his hands on the table. 

“You make an impression,” says Hikaru. He clears his throat, then adds, “And no, she didn’t forgive me, but that was doomed anyway. So don’t get any ideas in that swollen head of yours.”

“Too late,” says Kirk. He leans forward and Hikaru can see each of his eyelashes as they brush his cheeks. “Because that’s not actually what I was talking about.”

Hikaru’s heart stops. 

“I remember you, fly boy,” says Kirk. “You stole one of the test planes your third year.”

“I borrowed it,” says Hikaru. “And you weren’t even there.”

“Oh yes I was,” says Kirk. “Everyone was there.”

Hikaru shifts. 

“I’ve never seen anyone fly like that,” says Kirk. He is far enough forward that his head is above his hands now, and he pushes one of his thumbs up so it trails along his lower lip. His eyes are locked on Hikaru’s face. “You were gorgeous. Every cadet in the Academy wanted to fuck you, that day.” Hikaru blushes. Kirk smiles again, and Hikaru knows it is triumphant. “Your ex-girlfriend is an idiot.”

Hikaru shakes his head, then pulls back and stands. “I think you need to sleep, Jim.” He offers Kirk a hand. “I’ll get you back to your quarters.”

“I can walk, thank you,” says Kirk. He stands and then sways forward. Hikaru catches him around the waist. Kirk laughs.

“You are really drunk,” says Hikaru.

“And you are really, really hot,” says Kirk. 

Hikaru rolls his eyes. “Just don’t throw up on my shoes, okay?”


	6. Kirk

Kirk is not thinking about how awkward he felt two hours ago when Spock and Uhura beamed back aboard the _Enterprise_. And he’s certainly not thinking about how awkward it is now since no one thought maybe they shouldn’t be on shift together right away and so Uhura is sitting to his left and he can hear Spock shifting behind him. He is absolutely not thinking about any of that, at all, because in he is too busy thinking about the giant delicious planet that is taking up their entire viewscreen. Maybe Starfleet command was impressed by his diplomatic work. Maybe they are trying to protect the newly T’Pau-approved Spock from further exposure to the radical elements. And maybe, maybe, says a tiny little voice in Kirk’s head, this is just the newest tactic they’ve dreamed up to keep Captain Kirk well away from any future warzones. Kirk doesn’t know, and in the end he tells himself he doesn’t actually give a fuck because they are finally, _finally,_ making contact with an unknown sector, light years away from Federation bureaucrats.

“Scans, Lieutenant Uhura?”

“Nothing, sir,” says Uhura. She presses buttons on her console. “No transmissions.”

“Class M planet, Captain,” says Spock. His voice reverberates through Kirk. Kirk can’t understand why the science officer’s chair is directly behind the captain’s, because it makes it impossible for him to look at Spock without completely turning around. And he’s not going to do that, because he doesn’t need to look at Spock, because this planet looks totally awesome. It’s big and large and full of stuff that literally no one has seen before. 

“Excellent, Spock.” He leans forward, then presses his comm button. “ _Enterprise,_ this is Captain Kirk. Lieutenant Yang, Ensign Jacobs, report to the transporter room prepared to beam down for an exploratory mission. Kirk out.”

He wants Spock down on the surface with him, but something inside of him hesitates before he can give the order. He tells himself that it’s just common sense and his Academy training. Obviously, if the Captain goes on a mission, the First Officer should be on the bridge. It is only at this point that Kirk allows himself to look at Spock. Spock’s eyes are fixed on the viewscreen, looking above and a little to the right of Kirk’s head. His lips are pressed together, still, and his eyebrows are down. There is nothing there, nothing to give Kirk any indication of… what was Kirk looking for here? Validation? He’s the goddamn Captain now, this is ridiculous. He turns to face forward again. 

“Sulu, with me. Mister Spock, you have the conn.” Kirk stands and turns around to walk towards the lift. Spock stands as well, and his eyes meet Kirk’s. Spock nods once, then his eyes fall as he walks to take his place on the Captain’s chair. 

Kirk turns sharply when he reaches the turbolift, and almost crashes into Hikaru. He pulls back, then recovers with a grin.

“You ready, Sulu?”

Hikaru nods. “Yes, sir.” 

Kirk touches the panel and the lift doors close. Hikaru settles into place beside him. A few seconds pass. Hikaru draws breath in, somewhat loudly, and Kirk turns his head to look at Hikaru’s face, which seems tight.

“If you have something to say, please feel free.”

Hikaru’s breath hitches, and he does not turn to face Kirk. The turbolift chimes. 

“No, sir,” says Hikaru as the doors open. He steps forward “See you in the transporter room.”

 “Hikaru?” Hikaru pauses in the doorway, and then turns to look at Kirk. His eyes are dark, dark brown. “Uh, might need your blade on the surface,” says Kirk. “Make sure you bring it.”

Hikaru nods, then turns. “Yes, sir.” 

The door closes. Kirk feels, fleetingly, alone.


	7. Sulu

Hikaru really thought that tromping around on a new planet for a few hours would be good for Kirk. He did. He thought that even after he saw the way Kirk looked at Spock when they were leaving the bridge. He believed it wholeheartedly right up until it turned out the planet was just sparse forest and common mineral deposits. No complex life. Nothing of value. Not even a mysterious temple or a carnivorous plant. Kirk insists Hikaru join him in his quarters for a drink after the mission is over. Hikaru doesn’t want Kirk to drink alone. 

And that’s pretty much how their exploratory mission starts.

Sailing in the far reaches of space is not quite the bushwhacking xeneological adventure that had been fed to them by Academy recruiters. In three standard months of searching, they find only two planets that are class M, but neither has anything like intelligent life on it. Most of the planets they find are barren chunks of rock. The few that have life are full of lichen and molds, punctuated occasionally with poisonous spores (no one ever gets sick, not that Hikaru would ever want that to happen, no matter how much it would alleviate the boredom). And yet Kirk insists on stopping and going to the surface of every single one. He says it’s because he doesn’t trust the scans. Hikaru thinks it’s because he can’t stand to be on the ship, mostly because of the way Kirk looks fifty pounds lighter once they step onto the surface of a new planet, but also because eventually Kirk gets drunk enough and just flat out tells Hikaru that he “absolutely fucking cannot stand this tin can sometimes.” 

Hikaru is not actually a good person even though everyone seems to think he is. The thing is, he enjoys it when Kirk talks to him. Hikaru is happy when Kirk stays up late into the night and tells him stories about childhood on the farm. Hikaru is happy when he and Kirk meet in the gym without scheduling it- they both just show up to spar. Sometimes Hikaru teaches Kirk to fence, and other times Kirk teaches Hikaru how to fight dirty, and sometimes they just run through standard Academy drills together until they are exhausted and sore, and at those times Hikaru believes Kirk is also happy. 

And he knows he is really just a terrible person because he allows himself to feel happy with this even though he cannot shake the feeling that this is all _wrong_. It’s wrong that their mission is so dull. It’s wrong that they are out exploring when the Federation is on the brink of a civil war. It’s wrong that Kirk hates being on the ship. It’s wrong that he’s consuming more of Scotty’s scotch stash than Scotty himself is consuming. And despite Hikaru’s intentions, and these are actually his best intentions, Kirk pretty much does drink alone, only usually it’s with Hikaru there. Hikaru tries to tell himself he’s just doing the best he can.

He tells himself that right up to and then straight through the point at which Kirk’s behavior becomes completely inappropriate.

“Hmm,” says Hikaru. “Yendora?”

“Fun fact,” says Kirk. “I’m allergic to Yendoran protein strains.”

Hikaru snorts and he’s afraid beer will come out of his nose. “Don’t tell me…”

“I found that out at, shall we say, an inopportune time.” Kirk raises his glass. “Let’s all salute the fact that I lived with a medical cadet. Best choice I made at the academy.”

“No way.”

Kirk nods as he drinks. “Oh yes. Luckily we were at my place. I managed to get up off my knees and through the doors into Bones’s room before full anaphylactic shock set in. Now I don’t swallow on the first date.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Not with new species, anyway.”

Hikaru shakes his head slowly. If even half of Kirk’s stories are true, Doctor McCoy deserves the medal of valor.

“My turn,” says Kirk. “How about an Andorian?” 

“Eh,” says Hikaru. “No, but I think the exoskeleton would make things difficult anyway.”

“I could see that.”

“Plus there weren’t any at the Academy, and you didn’t let us meet the diplomats who came on board, so when would I have had the opportunity?”

“Fair point,” says Kirk. “Let me ask another then?”

Hikaru really would object, but Kirk is smiling, so he doesn’t. “Go for it.”

“Ever put a guy in handcuffs?”

“A guy?”

“Or a girl. Or anyone.”

Hikaru pauses. “No, not exactly. I did have one series of encounters with a couple who liked to be bound up in silk.”

“A couple? Really?”

“Yeah,” says Hikaru. “Learned a lot of knots.”

Kirk’s eyes gleam. He leans forward. “Show me?” he says.

Hikaru looks around the room as if he is considering, or maybe searching for a suitable scarf. His eyes settle on a holodisc. “Oh, is that the Greg Yassar version of _Mutiny on the Bounty?_ ”

“It is,” Kirk says, pulling back. “I borrowed it from Ensign Katara; thought you might like it. You wanna watch it?”

“Yes,” says Hikaru. He does not tell Kirk that he borrowed it from Ensign Katara himself six months ago, because if there is anything that makes this situation tenable, it is Hikaru’s ability to keep things to himself.


	8. Sulu

Today is not the day for an emergency in the botany lab. Most days Hikaru would have been fine with being paged, more than happy to fulfill what is, for him, a tertiary duty on board the _Enterprise_. Given the sluggish mission pace lately, on any other day a sprinkler system malfunction creating perfect conditions for an entire bank of _Raptus Regaliter_ to spew highly corrosive and mildly hallucinogenic pollen all over two unsuspecting ensigns would have been downright _welcome_. But, he thinks to himself as he peels off the last layer of his hazmat suit and steps into the decontamination chamber, today is not any day. 

When he gets to Kirk’s room he finds McCoy sitting outside.

“Well, thank Jesus you’re here.” McCoy stands up and pushes a wrapped square package into Hikaru’s hands. “I’ve got a shift down in medbay in five. Can you make sure Kirk gets this whenever he decides to get off his mopey butt and OPEN THE DAMN DOOR?” McCoy turns to Kirk’s closed door as he yells the last few words. There is an answering shout and a crash from inside, as if Kirk has thrown something in reply. McCoy scowls as he turns back to face Hikaru. “I swear, he’s worse every goddamn year.”

“Sure,” says Hikaru. He hadn’t realized how quickly he had been moving until McCoy stopped him up short. The brief moment of standing while McCoy spoke has made his head spin.  “Wait!” He shouts at McCoy’s rapidly retreating form. McCoy turns. “How long?”

McCoy presses his lips together as he keeps walking backwards. “I know he didn’t schedule a shift today. But he’ll be fine. He usually is.” And then McCoy is gone.

Hikaru turns back to the door. “Hey, ah, Jim,” he says, loudly, feeling foolish, but the intercom light is off and he’s not sure how much he has to raise his voice to make himself heard through the layers of metal. “It’s, uh, it’s me.” And then, “Hikaru.”

The door slides open.

“I know who you are,” says Kirk. “Come in, and bring that present from McCoy.”

Hikaru steps into Kirk’s quarters and the door slides shut behind him. The lights are very dim and it takes a moment for Hikaru’s eyes to adjust. There are half empty cups and glasses clustered around the couch. Kirk is sprawled with his legs over one couch arm, propped up on his elbow with his other hand outstretched. Hikaru hands him the package, then moves to sit in the desk chair. Kirk makes a disapproving noise and shifts his feet off the cushions, so Hikaru sits down next to him instead. Kirk rips the package open.

“Ahha, I knew it!” says Kirk. “Fucking enabler.” He holds a bottle of ambler liquid up so Hikaru can see it. “Every year he tells me he’s going to get Romulan ale. And every year it’s the same old Kentucky bourbon. Still got class, though, gotta give him that.” Kirk looks around. “Find yourself a clean cup, Hikaru, you’re gonna want some of this.”

“Jim, I-“

“Oh, and it’s okay if you didn’t get me anything. Family never much liked to celebrate.”

Hikaru is about to explain that he did, in fact, get Kirk a birthday present when he sees a oddly shaped lump near his foot. It must be whatever Kirk threw when McCoy shouted at him. Hikaru picks it up and turns it over in his hands. It’s an antique book, in fairly good condition even though some of the pages were bent during its recent flight. There is a holographic book plate on the inside cover. _A gift from Spock and Nyota_ , it says in faintly glowing script. _For our Captain, on his birthday._

Kirk grunts. “I see you found my other gift.” He hands Hikaru a cup.

Hikaru closes the book and traces one hand along the spine. “Why a book?”

Kirk shrugs. “I like to read.” He pours each of them some bourbon. “And really, what else says _Let’s celebrate your father’s suicide mission!_ better than Dickens?”

Hikaru doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything. He puts the book down and wraps both hands around his drink. He sips it. It really is very good bourbon - but of course McCoy knows what he’s doing. Kirk reaches the bottom of his glass and pours himself another, and then a third.

“You know what gets me?” he says, a bit slow now that he’s well through the bottle. Hikaru shakes his head. “Is it’s not just my family tragedy anymore. Ever since we learned what that lightning storm really was, ever since Nero…well, today’s the day everyone’s destiny officially went off the fucking rails.”

Hikaru considers this. “I don’t know,” he says. “I can’t imagine my life going any other way than this.” He leans back, hands in his lap, looking at Kirk on the other end of the couch. He’s in profile, elbows on his knees, and Hikaru wonders how much Kirk drank before Hikaru got there. “I’m… I’m glad I ended up here, in any case.” 

Kirk turns his face towards Hikaru. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Man,” says Kirk. “Sometimes I just can’t handle you. Here?” He sits up and sweeps his hand around the room, and some of the bourbon splashes out of the glass and runs down his fingers. “You are glad you ended up inspecting rocks at the ass-end of the fucking universe? _”_

Hikaru can’t help but smile a little, then, because he’s uncomfortable but also because there is no one who can vacillate between despairing and uproarious like Jim Kirk. “Maybe not when you put it that way, but generally, yeah. I am. I like this ship. I like the crew. And I think you’re a good captain. Joining Starfleet, being a pilot- it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, and being here, with everyone, I get to do it. So yeah, I’m glad.”

Kirk lets his head fall back against the couch. 

“You know what I want for my birthday?” says Kirk, quietly.

Hikaru shakes his head again.

“I’d like to feel like that.” Kirk pauses, looking into his half-empty glass. “Fuck, Hikaru, I’d like to feel _anything._ Excitement, joy, fear. Lust.” Hikaru smiles, but Kirk goes on. “I’m serious. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt any sort of passion, for anything?” Kirk leans his head back again, splaying his legs so his knee bumps against Hikaru’s knee. “I just… I miss it. There are days when I think this would all be bearable, more than bearable, if I could just feel like I really wanted… something. Anything. The thrill of conquest. The agony of submission.” Then Kirk’s hand comes down, almost like an accident, almost casually, the back of his knuckles resting lightly on Hikaru’s thigh. 

Hikaru feels heavy. All the points where his body touches Kirk’s burn like fire.

“Maybe,” says Kirk. “Maybe…” His voice trails off, and he turns his hand and moves his fingers so they press into the fabric of Hikaru’s pants and into the flesh beneath, briefly, cautiously. Kirk’s hand retreats but Hikaru can still feel fingerprints ghosting along the muscles of his leg, up… up…. “Maybe we…”

Every hair on Hikaru’s arms stands on end. 

“No,” he says. 

Kirk shrugs, a slow ripple of muscles under his shirt, and nothing about it seems in any way apologetic. 

Hikaru shakes his head. “No,” he says, but his voice is hoarse now.

Kirk looks at him then, and his eyes are… they are so blue. He is struck again by the memory of Kirk’s mouth. Kirk’s mouth is wide, his lips rough. He kisses like he wants to bruise. Although it was years ago and although he has kissed so many people since then, every time he thinks of kissing Kirk it is like he is drowning. 

“Hikaru,” says Kirk. “Please…” He closes his eyes. Hikaru aches because he is not sure Kirk understands what he is asking for but he is pretty sure Kirk understands how difficult it is for Hikaru not to give it to him. “You-” And Hikaru wants to make him stop talking _right now_ , make it so that the next part doesn’t actually come out of Kirk’s mouth, but he can’t think of any way to do it other than to fill Kirk’s mouth with his tongue and that’s not going to help except maybe it would make the rushing noise in his head quiet for the first time in years but it doesn’t matter because Hikaru can’t move fast enough and Kirk says, “You can fuck me really hard, if you like, if you want- I- it would be-”

“Oh, Christ, Jim.” Hikaru puts his head in his hands. “No, not- I can’t.”

“Why not?” says Kirk, and he grabs at Hikaru’s hands and pulls them back. His face is so close to Hikaru’s face Hikaru can feel him blinking. “I like you, I - want- I want…”

“Jim, don’t.”

“Why not?” And this time when he asks, Kirk’s voice is suddenly bright, aiming for cheerful but instead gleaming like the edge of a knife. The lines around his eyes look smudged. He shifts his hands, still on Hikaru’s hands, until his fingers are pressed against Hikaru’s wrist. 

“Because,” says Hikaru, as Kirk’s fingers move on his skin. “Because, you don’t really-”

“I do,” says Kirk.

“Let me finish,” says Hikaru. “Because you’re drunk, Jim. You’re drunk now, and you’re always like this when you’re- and I can’t keep doing this.” He pulls his arms back and breaks contact with Kirk. 

“I’m not,” says Kirk. “I mean… I am, but that’s not why…” He stops, slouches back against the cushions. Then he picks up his drink again. 

And Hikaru waits. 

He always waits. Hikaru waits because Kirk jumped after him when he fell, and he knows that he will jump after him into this abyss now if Kirk just gives him one sign that he’ll be there to break the fall at the bottom. He knows that if Kirk could, just once, just _once_ , be honest with himself or with Hikaru, even while he was drunk, that would be enough, it would be enough because Hikaru is a hopeless mess and a terrible person and he cannot stand to watch this.

But Kirk does not speak again, and as soon as he’s sure Kirk’s asleep, Hikaru carries him to bed.


	9. Kirk

Kirk wakes up and immediately fumbles for the hypos Bones always gives him on his birthday. He hasn’t had a hangover this bad since…. _Iowa_. And wow, Hikaru- wait, _fuck-_ _Hikaru_ \- he looks around, no, still clothed, shoes on, even, and his room is empty. And then, inexplicably, his stomach sinks.

He doesn’t even have time to tell himself to slow down before he’s running down the hallway, hastily dressed, pressing the hypo to his neck so that his head will be at least a little clearer before he reaches Hikaru’s door. He pushes the bell and waves as the overhead light comes on to indicate video feed. A few seconds later the door slides open and Hikaru is in the doorway. His hair is standing straight up.

“You look like hell,” he says.

“You’re no princess,” says Kirk. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Hikaru, and shifts aside. The door closes behind Kirk.

“You feeling it today?” says Kirk.

“I wasn’t drunk,” says Hikaru. 

“Oh,” says Kirk. He doesn’t know what else to say. He looks around the room. He has… he has never actually been inside Hikaru’s room before. There are fencing foils hung on the walls. “Nice swords,” he says. 

Hikaru shrugs. “What’s up?” he says.

“Ah, right,” says Kirk. “I just wanted to say… thanks, I guess.” Hikaru has his arms folded across his chest. “I know I was a handful last night.”

“Nothing new,” says Hikaru.

“Ok,” says Kirk. “Wait, what?”

“I said, nothing new.”

“Hey now,” says Kirk. “I came here to apologize.”

“Go ahead,” says Hikaru.

“I get the sense you are upset with me,” says Kirk.

Hikaru exhales. “I’m not, not really. I’m just tired, I suppose.” Kirk bites his tongue, literally puts it between his teeth, because it’s Hikaru’s turn to talk, but something about Hikaru being upset with him is pulling uncomfortably at his stomach and it makes being quiet very hard. “Look, Jim, you’ve clearly got a lot going on. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“You’re not,” says Kirk. 

“Okay, then,” says Hikaru. 

“Did I say something last night?” says Kirk. He’s pretty sure he remembers everything, but he’s blacked out before and not even known it. “Or do something?”

“No, no,” says Hikaru. Then he pauses. His lips purse as he’s thinking, and suddenly Kirk wants to kiss him. “Actually, yes, yes you did.”

“I’m sorry,” says Kirk before Hikaru can give him details. “Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

Hikaru pauses. “It wasn’t mean,” he says.

“Right,” says Kirk. 

“Why are you here?” says Hikaru.

“I said- to apologize-“

“No but why now?” Kirk shakes his head, confused. “We spar almost every afternoon. I’ve got a shift that starts in-” he looks at the chronometer “thirty-two minutes. This couldn’t have waited?”

Kirk shrugs. _What am I supposed to say?_ He thinks. _That I woke up this morning, headache the size of Io, and the first thought I had was that you might be in bed with me, and when you weren’t, I was disappointed?_

“Say it,” says Hikaru. 

Kirk startles. “What?”

“The thing you were just thinking, say it.”

“No,” says Kirk, setting his jaw. 

“Fine,” says Hikaru. He passes one hand over his eyes. “Look, I just…” he looks at Kirk, his eyes are brown and flashing, and then he closes them. Hikaru doesn’t interrupt people, he was raised right, and Kirk wants to respect that and so he keeps his mouth shut. Hikaru is so earnest and so well meaning, it really gets at something inside of Kirk, makes him feel rough and dirty and uncouth but also like maybe he could be a little bit better if he just tried. Kirk owes Hikaru every courtesy and right now Kirk wants to do him every courtesy in the fucking _universe._

Hikaru rubs his hand over his face. He looks tired, so Kirk steps forward and reaches one hand out to pat him on the back, but instead he grabs his bicep just at the cuff of his white shirt. Hikaru’s eyes fly open, and he looks at Kirk’s hand on his arm. Kirk is suddenly aware of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. Kirk thinks Hikaru is going to pull away so before he can Kirk’s fingers clench and his thumb runs up the inside of Hikaru’s arm, under the cuff and along the soft skin. Hikaru’s breath hitches, and then he pulls away, but not before Kirk can feel him shiver so hard it’s practically violent. Hikaru’s eyes are on Kirk’s face, and Kirk can see that Hikaru is waiting for Kirk to say something, but Kirk was waiting for Hikaru to say something so he bites his lip.

“Oh, fuck it,” says Hikaru, and he grabs Kirk’s face, one hand on either cheek, and presses his mouth to Kirk’s, and it is sudden and weird because Kirk’s lip is still between his teeth and it hurts a little. But Hikaru’s mouth is soft and Kirk feels him relax when he smiles into it. Hikaru leans back, looking into Kirk’s face.

“Okay?” asks Hikaru.

“Fuck _okay_ ,” says Kirk. He grabs Hikaru. “This is _awesome_.” 

Kirk kisses Hikaru then, and Hikaru lets him, lips wide. He pushes his tongue against the roof of Hikaru’s mouth which gets a sharp grunt, then Hikaru grabs Kirk’s ass with both hands and pulls their hips together. Kirk’s blood rushes to his crotch so fast he’s dizzy and not really aware for the next few minutes, which seem to consist mostly of nipping teeth and bare chests and undone zippers, because the next thing he knows he’s up against the wall with his pants around his ankles and Hikaru’s hand cupping him through his briefs. He can’t remember the last time he was this hard. He hooks his fingers inside his waistband, edging it down, and Hikaru pulls his hand away and Kirk thinks it is just to make it easier for Kirk to undress completely but then Hikaru drops to his knees and noses alongside the head of Kirk’s dick as it pulls free. Hikaru looks up at Kirk, seeking permission that Kirk actually gave him days ago, weeks, _months,_ but Hikaru is so damn polite so of course he asks again, now, before he takes Kirk’s cock into his wet, wet mouth. Kirk clenches his fingers in the thick thatch of Hikaru’s hair, and that makes Hikaru roll his tongue along the underside of Kirk’s dick and Kirk throws his head back against the wall and groans. 

“Jesus, I can’t-” he says. Hikaru leans his head back and Kirk’s cock is suddenly so deep he thinks he might feel Hikaru’s tonsils. “Shit, Hikaru, if you- I’m gonna-”

And then, then, because apparently gentlemanly Hikaru Sulu is actually secretly a ridiculous slut, he _hums_. “ _Oh fuu-“_ says Kirk, and he comes right down Hikaru’s throat.  

Hikaru stands, slowly. Kirk can see his own fingerprints pressed in red on Hikaru’s bare shoulder. Hikaru swallows and wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. It is the most debauched thing Kirk has seen in months, maybe ever.  Hikaru considers Kirk, and smiles, almost to himself. Then reaches for his black long-sleeved undershirt. 

“Wait,” says Kirk, thickly, because his brain isn’t quite online yet. “You’re not done.”

“I have to be somewhere. We can finish later.” He pulls the black shirt over his head, and Kirk grabs him, pinning his arms.

“Or we can finish now,” says Kirk. “And have seconds later.” He reaches his hand into Hikaru’s fly, which is still open. 

“I can’t,” says Hikaru, gasping. “I have to be on the bridge in three minutes.” 

Kirk spins him and holds him against the wall. “I’ll write you a note,” he says, and then bites Hikaru’s ear.


	10. Sulu

It should be said for the record that Hikaru really did think about what he was getting into. 

The first day, Hikaru spent the eight hours of Kirk’s shift alternately cursing himself and vibrating with elation before he gave up on his inner emotional life and went to the gym. Kirk showed up as if it was any other afternoon. They spent fifty glorious minutes hitting each other with gloved hands and not speaking a word, and then Kirk followed Hikaru into the shower, stripped right down to his bare golden skin and kissed Hikaru with a mouth still smelling of sweat and dust. 

James Kirk is brash, he’s loud, he’s sure of himself and his welcome, he’s shameless and filthy and touchingly, achingly kind. He is utterly unlike Hikaru Sulu. And yet, perhaps, Hikaru thinks, they are not so different- because every day that passes where Kirk doesn’t wake up and realize Hikaru isn’t enough for him, Hikaru becomes a little more unlike the person he once understood himself to be.

It takes a week before Hikaru lets himself own a little bit of his newfound rashness. It happens in the middle of what should be his sleeping shift, which is well into the time when Kirk should also be sleeping. His shifts have been slightly staggered ever since his birthday, although they are slowly coming back into line with the normal rotations. In any case, it’s not just the fact that Kirk should be sleeping now that makes Hikaru pause outside of Kirk’s door with his hand over the intercom button. He is unannounced and uninvited, and this against every good habit he has ever cultivated and every ounce of good sense he has. This is the sort of thing Kirk would do. If Kirk woke up in the middle of the night, panting and hard, he would come to Hikaru’s quarters and knock and knock until Hikaru let him in. Something about Kirk has gotten into him, into his brain and under his skin, because just the thought of Kirk aroused and desperate for sex makes his knees weak and he pushes the button. There is a moment, less than a second really, but for Hikaru it is such an eternity that he thinks he could have run back to his own quarters six times over. But then the door is open and he sees Kirk standing there in his grey briefs. Kirk grins, sleepily, looks quickly both ways down the corridor, then reaches one bare arm out and grabs Hikaru around the neck. 

Kirk pulls him in, his mouth on Hikaru’s mouth, spins him, then hooks one foot behind Hikaru’s ankle so Hikaru’s leg folds and he’s pressed sitting onto the couch. Kirk leans over him, kissing him still.

“Couldn’t sleep?” says Kirk, his words muffled against Hikaru’s lips.

Hikaru groans in reply, then pushes his tongue into Kirk’s mouth and through his teeth. Kirk laughs and pulls back so he can look at Hikaru’s face. “I slept,” said Hikaru. “And then I dreamed.” He pushes his hips forward into Kirk then just as Kirk levers himself up so he can straddle Hikaru on the couch, and Kirk’s eyes gleam when he feels Hikaru’s erection pushing against his thigh. 

“I think,” says Kirk, grinding down onto Hikaru, “that you just like me for my body.”

“Jim, I-” says Hikaru, ashamed. “I didn’t mean to- I just-”

“Oh shut up,” says Kirk. “Whatever you want, it’s all fine here.” And when Hikaru tries to go on, to explain himself, to apologize, Kirk kisses him and kisses him until Hikaru relinquishes and slides his tongue alongside Kirk’s tongue. 

* * *

Two weeks into this, and five months into the exploratory mission, Hikaru and Kirk find themselves alone on the surface of some new mostly-barren rock. Radiation is interfering with the transporters (what else is new) and the shuttle only had room for four once they loaded in all the samples Spock’s team had collected. They stand together in a sparsely grassed field watching the bright burn across the sky as the shuttle moves out of sight. Then Kirk turns to Hikaru, lifts one eyebrow, and says, “You know what I’d like to do right now?”

And by God, does Hikaru have an idea about what Kirk would like to do. He wants to imagine that he’s all business, but right then, when they are the only people on an entire planet, Hikaru understands why it is that Starfleet has anti-fraternization regs (and also why no one ever, ever follows them). In a matter of seconds Hikaru runs through a thousand scenes. He thinks about how Kirk likes it when Hikaru kisses him behind his knees. How he likes it when he is pressed facedown, Hikaru lying on top of him, biting the back of Kirk’s neck with his hands wrapped around Kirk’s chest. How Kirk likes to lick Hikaru, tongue him wide open slowly, then work his wet fingers inside. Or how he likes to kneel behind, when Hikaru is braced against the wall with Kirk braced against him, one hand on the cheek of Hikaru’s ass with his thumb hooked into the tight ring of muscle so that when Hikaru shifts he stretches himself open, and then Kirk will press his lips to the skin between Hikaru’s legs and then under and through so he can press his tongue against the back of Hikaru’s balls, and Hikaru squirms and moans and shakes. 

And, because he cannot help but think about it, here, flush with the novelty of really being alone, he thinks about how Kirk screams when Hikaru tops him, how he shouts and twists and bucks, how he urges Hikaru to thrust into him so hard and so fast Hikaru fears the force of it will bring the walls down around them.

Kirk sniggers. “Man, you should see your face right now.” 

Hikaru raises his hand to his cheek. Kirk is still grinning at him. Hikaru’s hand drops and he scowls. “You were going to say you wanted to go enjoy some fresh air or something, weren’t you?”

“I was,” says Kirk. “But you seem to have other ideas.”

Hikaru thinks about disagreeing. He really does. Then he remembers again how _they are the only people on an entire planet._ He pushes out his lower lip, and shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Ooh, coy Sulu,” says Kirk. “I like it.”

Later, when Kirk’s comm trills to let them know the shuttle is on its way, Hikaru can barely hear it over the sound of Kirk coming.

* * *

Three weeks in and Hikaru is letting Kirk bend him over the sink in Kirk’s shared bathroom, his face pressed to the cold white composite, his fingers wrapped around the faucet handles. He hears the cap close on a container, and then Kirk is pressing two slick fingers inside of him. He looks up to see that Kirk is looking at him in the mirror, and Hikaru can see himself, face red and mouth slack. Kirk twists his fingers and presses and Hikaru’s entire body clenches, his eyes closing briefly.

“Holy fuck, just look at you,” says Kirk. Hikaru keeps his eyes closed, because he is not sure Kirk meant to speak out loud, but then Kirk presses his fingers down and apart so Hikaru’s legs shake and Kirk says, “ _look,_ ” and so Hikaru opens his eyes again and he can see himself but he can also see Kirk’s face, Kirk’s wide open face with his eyes blown black and his lips red and swollen. “Do you see?” says Kirk, moving his fingers, “I don’t know how anyone could look at you and not want to give you _everything_.” Hikaru dips his head then, because Kirk is sliding three fingers into him and he needs to press his face against a cold hard surface again or he is going to lose it. He shakes his head. “Please,” says Kirk. “Come for me.” Hikaru groans. He’s really close. He looks up at the mirror again and he sees Kirk’s face, and Kirk isn’t looking into the mirror anymore. He is looking down at Hikaru, watching with a sort of reverential pride as Hikaru unfolds beneath him. Hikaru cannot stop looking at Kirk as Kirk looks at him. Hikaru’s chest stings like something deep inside of him is warm and melting and it is burning him. He wants to take Kirk apart one piece at a time because that would be easier than this. 

“Wait _,_ ” gasps Hikaru.

“I’m not sure I can,” says Kirk.

“I don’t want to come yet,” says Hikaru, pulling forward but Kirk’s fingers follow and he’s crowded against the counter and the sudden pressure against his cock makes him shudder. “God, Jim, stop, hold on…”

“Why not?” says Kirk. “I want you to come, I want to see-“

“No, not like this,” says Hikaru, and when Kirk pushes forward again, Hikaru twists so Kirk’s fingers slip. “I want to come inside you.” 

“Oh, Christ,” says Kirk and then, “say it again.”

“What?”

“Tell me again, tell me-“

“I want to come inside of you, Jim, _”_ Hikaru says. He hears his voice grow hoarse, the thought of lying Kirk down on the ground and pushing his legs around his ears makes his throat tight and he bears down on Kirk’s fingers and Kirk yelps a little. 

“Right here?” says Kirk.

“No,” says Hikaru, suddenly wary of the fact that this is, technically, shared space. “Bed.”

“You gonna make me?” says Kirk. He backs up until he is against the far wall and plants his feet.

“Jim,” says Hikaru, turning to face Kirk. Then his voice drops to a whisper. “Seriously, let’s just go into your room.”

Kirk tilts his head. “Why?” he says. “You alright?”

“The other…” He nods his head towards the door. “I think they’re home.” He doesn’t know whose quarters it is, actually, now that he thinks about it. 

“There’s no one there.”

“But, Jim-”

“I swear. It’s empty.” Kirk takes advantage of the fact that Hikaru’s face is turned towards the door and puts his tongue in Hikaru’s ear. Hikaru’s knees buckle and he sags against the counter.

“Jim,- I can’t, I’m just- what if the person who lives there tries to get into the bathroom?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sulu, you’re just not going to let this go, are you?” Kirk steps back. Hikaru frowns, and Kirk sighs. “No one lives there! See?” He strides over and opens the door. “These used to be Spock’s, originally. But Starfleet regulations allow married crewmembers to have shared quarters, and since Uhura couldn’t very well take my bunk, he moved.” Kirk is complaining about the bureaucratic issues with rank and the difficulties of finding Spock and Uhura appropriate rooms and how technically no one but the first officer can occupy a room this size, but Hikaru isn’t really listening. His eyes are slowly adjusting and he can see into what was once Spock’s rooms, and they are, Hikaru is surprised to see, not actually quite empty; the walls are hung with red fabric panels and gleaming weapons. He sees what he is absolutely certain is a _lirpa_ on the far side. He must have been craning his neck because then Kirk says, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” says Hikaru. Kirk tilts his head, disbelieving, so Hikaru goes on. “I, uh, I think that’s a pretty rare Vulcan weapon in there.”

“Oh,” says Kirk. He looks into the room. “Yeah, I bet it is. Uhura didn’t want a lot of the stuff in their new place, for some reason, so I told Spock he could just leave them here.” Kirk shrugs. “Gives him a place to be alone if he wants.”

“Does he still stay here?” says Hikaru, and he’s not really sure why he asks because he is not really sure he wants an answer.

Kirk frowns. “Dunno. He did sometimes at first, to meditate I think, but lately…” Kirk shrugs again. They both sit in silence for a moment, then Kirk jumps suddenly and closes the door. “Enough delay,” he says. “You were promising me all sorts of absolutely dirty things. Don’t make me regret not just fucking you when I had the chance.” He smiles at Hikaru, wickedly, as he opens the door to his own rooms and goes in.

* * *

Once again, it should be said for the record that Hikaru really did think about what he was getting into. He isn’t blind and he isn’t stupid and he wasn’t born yesterday or any of the other things people might think. He knows what Kirk is doing. 

He is just tired of being himself.


	11. Kirk

“Jim,” says McCoy. His voice is really unsettling. “Sit down. I need to talk to you.”

“Uh,” says Kirk. “Okay.” He really thought McCoy just wanted to go over mission notes with him, otherwise he would not have shown up for this. He doesn’t sit.

McCoy frowns. He scrubs one hand backward through his hair. “Look, I know you’ve been…been… okay, there’s really no way to put this delicately, and I really actually know it’s none of my business, but remember when we were roommates?”

“Sure I do,” says Kirk. “It wasn’t really that long ago.”

“But you remember how when you were, ahem….getting some…I always knew?”

“I thought it was fairly obvious, what with the loud noises and me being gone for days at a time.”

“Well, it’s not just that,” says McCoy. He is really uncomfortable. Kirk thinks this is hilarious. “You… Uh… look, it’s not important, okay, never mind. The point is that I know you’re getting laid, and although it has generally improved your mood, I just want to have it said, for the record, that I think you ought to cut it out.”

Kirk raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes, Jim.” McCoy frowns. “It’s got to stop. You’re just asking for trouble. You’re his superior officer.”

“No one cares about that,” says Kirk. 

“And it’s cruel to Nyota.”

“Wait, Nyota?” Kirk tilts his head. “Why would Uhura care?”

“Why would Uhura..?” McCoy’s eyebrows pull together. “Good god, it’s worse than I imagined.” 

“Seriously, Bones, I don’t get it- do you think it’s awkward for her on the bridge? Because she really has no place to talk- what with the fact that she was clearly fucking her professor at the Academy-“ He cuts off when McCoy smacks him upside the head. “OW! What was that for?”

“That was for being an insensitive sack of balls, James Tiberius.” McCoy cuffs him again. “And that is for being a prissy condescending bitch, because I can’t figure out what your game is right now so best be on the safe side.”

“Ow, ow, hey!” Kirk catches McCoy’s hand before he gets hit again. “Bones, calm down! Jesus, okay, look, I don’t understand what the fuck you’re talking about, but if you really think it’s a terrible idea, I’ll call it off. Hikaru will get over it.”

McCoy’s eyes bulge. “Hikaru? Hikaru… Sulu?”

“Yes…?”

“Oh Jesus Christ, Jim, you’ve been fucking _Hikaru Sulu?”_

Kirk drops McCoy’s hands. “You tell me, you’re the one who apparently has Jim-Kirk’s-Getting-Ass Radar.”

“Fuck me,” says McCoy, and he sits. Kirk resists the urge to make an inappropriate joke, although he is fairly certain fucking Bones would not actually be more acceptable than fucking Sulu. “How long?”

“Depends how you count it. Three weeks since-” 

“No, wait, never mind, I don’t want to know,” says McCoy. He sighs. “Carry on, then.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

McCoy nods.

“What did you think I was doing?”

McCoy shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.” Then he smirks. “Sulu, eh? Didn’t he make out with you plebe year?”

“Sure did,” says Kirk. “You know how it goes. No one ever gets just one taste of Jim Kirk.” He winks, then heads out the door.

“That’s what I’m worried about, Jim,” says McCoy to the door as it closes. “That is exactly what I am worried about.”


	12. Sulu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really earning the rating this time, guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter depicts two people engaging in implicitly consensual rough sex for which they have disparate levels of enthusiasm. It is likely triggery for anyone who is sensitive to violence and sex mixing, or who prefers D/s or BDSM to happen within the bounds of explicit consent. 
> 
> IF THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, but you want to finish the story, you can go ahead and skip this chapter; the rest of it will still mostly make sense and no one will judge you. I would prefer you do that than read something that makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> And, above all, remember that this is the BadChoices!AU and under no circumstances should you ever, EVER try this at home.

Seven months after starting their exploratory mission, and two months since Hikaru last saw Kirk drunk, they find another class M planet. Since Hikaru isn’t on shift Kirk takes Chekov down to the surface with the science team. Hikaru tells himself the small pang of jealousy is entirely unnecessary since this planet, like all the ones they have found so far, will probably have nothing on it. He’s almost right.

Turns out the local life is some sort of small furred creature that travels in herds. Chekov compares them to Earth lemmings. (Later in the lab the botanist they sent to the surface tells Hikaru they were more like raccoons.) When the team comes back from the surface and reports to the bridge, Spock advises Kirk they should perhaps remain for a few days so the xenozoologists can observe the creatures and their ecosystem in detail. Kirk agrees, then promptly hands the comm to Spock and goes back to his quarters to shower. He doesn’t come to the mess for dinner, so Hikaru, who is absolutely not worried about Kirk, goes to his quarters afterwards to check on him. Inside, Kirk is draped over his couch, eyes shielded by one arm, and looking, for all the world, like some distressed Victorian heroine.

“Stupid fucking boring planet. It’s like there’s an endless supply of them.” Kirk throws his head back on the couch and rolls his neck.

“This one is less boring, a little,” says Hikaru. He sits on the floor with his back against the couch.

“Barely,” says Kirk. “Spock thinks the creatures are _intelligent_. He thinks they have a _language_. He wants to _record_ it.” Each sentence is a little more petulant and disbelieving. Hikaru lets his head fall back. His hair brushes up against Kirk’s hip, and Kirk moves his hand to the top of Hikaru’s head. Hikaru realizes he is really tired. He would like nothing more than to just curl up here, with Kirk’s hands wrapped around him, and sleep. 

“Do you ever feel like it’s all gone wrong?” says Kirk.

“Yes,” says Hikaru, almost without thinking, and then he is angry with himself for saying it out loud. “Wait, sorry, I mean-”

“Don’t apologize. I asked.”

“Right.” Hikaru lets himself relax back into the couch again. Kirk doesn’t go on, so Hikaru says, “Why?”

Kirk looks at Hikaru then. “Because I feel like that.”

Hikaru nods. They sit in silence for a while. 

“Do you want me to go?” says Hikaru.

“What?” says Kirk, looking at Hikaru then. “No! No, sorry. I’m just a little morose today, I guess.” 

“Okay,” says Hikaru. And Kirk grips his fingers together tightly in Hikaru’s hair, pulling. The gesture tugs at Hikaru, he feels something tingle down his spine and spread, warm, into his belly. His breath catches. Kirk pulls his hair again, slower and more deliberately this time, and Hikaru lets his head tilt into it so his neck is taught. 

Kirk pulls himself up, drawn to the skin stretched over Hikaru’s throat, and presses his mouth there- bites at the skin, leaving wet red angry welts. Hikaru grabs Kirk by the hair and holds him to his own shoulder, where Kirk worries at the flesh near his collar bone while Hikaru pushes himself up and back so he is lying on the couch. When Kirk turns to straddle him, Hikaru resists. He pushes Kirk back against the arm of the couch instead, and Kirk goes, bends back until he is arched over the arm of the couch with his hips bent awkwardly. Hikaru holds Kirk’s hands up and over his head, and Kirk shifts and squirms beneath him until Hikaru bends his head and takes Kirk’s mouth up with his own. Kirk hums, and Hikaru presses him harder and harder, he’s not sure why, but as he does Kirk’s kisses become fiercer. Hikaru grabs a fistful of Kirk’s hair and wrenches his head back, and Kirk yells and bucks up his hips.

Hikaru pulls back. “Oh, I’m- are you okay?”

“Again,” says Kirk. 

Hikaru grabs Kirk’s hair and pulls his head back again. “Okay?” he says.

“Fuck,” says Kirk. He slides his hand between them, down along the hard bulge of Hikaru’s dick. “Do you want me?” he says.

“Yes,” says Hikaru. 

“How?” says Kirk, writhing beneath him.

“Like…like this,” says Hikaru. 

“No,” says Kirk, and he pops the button on Hikaru’s pants and slips his hand inside. “How?”

Hikaru kisses Kirk, slides his tongue into Kirk’s mouth, and Kirk bites down on Hikaru’s tongue and his lips- not sharp, but hard and firm. Hikaru feels, for some odd reason, like there is a film between them still- like if he can just push farther into Kirk’s mouth he could break through and really be inside of him. Hikaru twists his head to one side, puts his face alongside Kirk’s head and mouths at Kirk’s neck, then down along his hairline, pushing him over. Kirk laughs then, understanding, and twists until he is lying on his stomach. He arches his back up, unbuttoning his fly and pulling down his pants and his underwear in one slide. Hikaru grabs his hands. 

“Leave them on,” he says, so Kirk stops, his pants tangled around his knees. His ass is bare. Hikaru sits up behind him and runs his fingers down along Kirk’s spine. Kirk gasps and writhes, so Hikaru follows his fingers with his mouth- lips and tongue tracing a warm wet line down Kirk’s back and then into the cleft of his ass. 

Kirk turns his head so his cheek is pressed into the couch and he can look back at Hikaru over his shoulder. “Tell me,” he whispers. “Tell me you want to fuck me.”

“I- I want to fuck you,” says Hikaru, and the words are strange in his mouth, awkward.

“Again,” says Kirk, pressing himself up onto his knees and back, driving into Hikaru’s face. Hikaru leans back up so he is braced against the couch arm.

“I want to fuck you,” says Hikaru, and then, again, “I am going to fuck you,” and then, as he is looking down at the stretch of Kirk’s back in front of him, Kirk folded in half with his head in his arms, and he can hear Kirk’s breath grow ragged, he means it. He does- he wants to fuck Kirk right now, he doesn’t just want to be inside of him, or to fill him. He wants Kirk to feel it, wants him to go so far down into himself he stops thinking about the world, even for just ten minutes. He grabs Kirk hard, the bones of Kirk’s hips feel sharp under his fingers, and then he leans forward so Kirk can hear his voice even though it is pitched low and biting. “I am going to _fuck your brains out,_ Jim Kirk. I am going to hold you down on the floor and I am going to put my cock so far up your ass you are going to feel my balls slap your ears.” He grabs Kirk’s hair then, again, and pulls Kirk up so Kirk is pressed back against him. “I am going to fuck you until you come, and then I am going to keep fucking you. Because I can.” Kirk whimpers. “Because you’re going to let me.”

“Do it then,” says Kirk, and then, softer, _“please.”_

Hikaru gets off the couch then, pushes himself up to his feet and strips off his shirt. Then he stops to look at Kirk, who is still up on his knees, slumped against the back of the couch with his pants in a hopeless tangle and his cock curved up think and heavy and hard against the hem of his shirt. His eyes are wide and black and his lips are wet. With Kirk on his knees they are almost of a height. Hikaru stands in front of Kirk and considers him for a moment, then he peels Kirk’s shirt off and licks one brown nipple while Kirk hisses. Kirk hates it when Hikaru changes gears on him, and Hikaru loves it more than a little bit when Kirk is frustrated, so he slides down to his knees and presses his nose into the crease of Kirk’s thigh, tasting the sweat there and breathing into Kirk’s curly blond hair. Kirk grabs Hikaru’s hair with both hands and yanks. The force of it pulls Hikaru forward, and then Kirk is tipping off the couch and over Hikaru, so Hikaru just stands with Kirk slung over one shoulder and walks him to the bedroom and then drops him, ass first, onto the bed. 

Kirk leans back and kicks off his pants, then swings forward and, in one swift movement, has Hikaru’s fly undone and his briefs pulled down and his cock halfway down his throat. _“Jesus-“_ says Hikaru. He wanted to take his time with this, but now his balls are pulsing like they are going to just empty themselves right into Kirk’s mouth. He opens his pants and lets them fall with his underwear into a puddle on the floor. Kirk pulls back so just the head of Hikaru’s cock is in his mouth, and he runs his spit-slicked hands down the shaft and cups Hikaru’s balls. Hikaru starts to walk forward, stepping out of his pants, then up on his knees on the bed, so that Kirk is bent backwards until Hikaru is sitting on his chest and Kirk is trying to crane his head to reach Hikaru’s dick again but can only really get the tip of it. Hikaru reaches for the bedside table and takes out the container of lube Kirk keeps there, then opens it and pours it so it covers him, slick and wet, and it gets all over Kirk’s face and his chest but he doesn’t care so neither does Hikaru. Hikaru shifts back and settles between Kirk’s legs and then presses his slicked finger into Kirk’s hole, and then pulls it out and presses two back in. Kirk gasps and bucks, pulling his knees up so he is exposed. Hikaru takes Kirk’s cock in his other hand, the whole mess is wet and slick. He presses three fingers in then and pumps. Kirk plants his feet so he can lever himself up into Hikaru’s hand and then drop back onto Hikaru’s fingers, driving them deeper inside of him, and then Hikaru can feel Kirk’s dick get almost impossibly hard and the muscles of his ass clench and he _comes_. Hikaru works him through it, two fingers still inside of him because he knows Kirk wants that, and Kirk’s body is shaking still when he makes a noise and pulls up and off of Hikaru’s fingers, then flips over and gets on his hands and knees. Hikaru grabs Kirk’s hip with one hand and takes his own cock in the other, rubbing the still-slick head of it against the edges of Kirk’s hole, and Kirk gasps, so Hikaru slides in slowly, slowly, then pulls out and rocks back in again. Kirk lowers his head into his hands and pushes back against Hikaru so that Hikaru slides all the way in, and Hikaru has to stop for a moment because Kirk’s body is still clenching and shaking from the force of coming and it is almost too much. 

Kirk’s face is still buried in his hands. “I want you to hit me,” Kirk says, then.

“Now?” says Hikaru.

Kirk turns so his face is in profile and he looks at Hikaru out of one eye. “Yes.”

“I… I don’t know,” says Hikaru. But he wants to.

“Just once,” says Kirk, and he shifts backwards so Hikaru’s dick is moving inside of him. Hikaru rocks forward.

“Where?” says Hikaru.

“I don’t care,” says Kirk, his voice staccato. “Just do it hard.”

“Jim,” says Hikaru, and his breath is short because his cock is in Jim’s ass right now and that’s about as much as he can take. 

“No, don’t think, just do it,” says Kirk. “You want to hit me, so just _do it.”_ Kirk is wriggling, so Hikaru grabs a fistful of his skin and holds him still. This makes Kirk clench down hard and throws off Hikaru’s rhythm. Hikaru swats at Kirk’s ass.

“Harder,” says Kirk.

Hikaru braces and thrusts.

“No,” says Kirk, _“harder.”_ And he reaches back and slaps his own ass. So Hikaru smacks him, not too hard, and Kirk yells. Hikaru smacks him again, then Kirk bucks forward so fast Hikaru slips out of him. Kirk flips over onto his back so he’s lying in front of Hikaru and he says, “again,” and his eyes are absolutely blazing so Hikaru slaps at him, catching him across the hip, and Kirk says, “Like you _mean_ it” and Hikaru cups his hand and hits Kirk along the thigh and it makes a loud, loud noise and Kirk grunts and his eyes close and his mouth is wide open like he wants to groan but can’t even get the noise to work right. So Hikaru does it again, and this time the impact of it makes Kirk scramble back and up and he lunges at Hikaru and grabs his arms and Kirk says, “you can fight better than that” while Hikaru struggles to break free.  

“What, you afraid?” says Kirk, leaning forward. “C’mon, Sulu, you asshole, come _on_.” 

Kirk won’t let go of him, and Hikaru feels his frustration breaking through into rage as he moves, and then Kirk says “fucking _hit me_ ” and he lets go of Hikaru’s hand and Hikaru balls up one fist and punches Kirk on the shoulder and Kirk swears at him again, taunting, so Hikaru pulls back and hits Kirk across the face and now Kirk is begging, begging, so Hikaru hits him again and he feels Kirk’s lip break over his teeth and then he tastes blood because Kirk has grabbed Hikaru and pulled him down and is thrusting his tongue into Hikaru’s mouth as he flips Hikaru onto his back and presses his shoulders into the bed. Then Kirk mounts him, he’s up and pushing himself down onto Hikaru’s cock and it’s dry and burning Hikaru a little bit so he can’t even imagine what kind of pain Kirk is in, even though Kirk’s face is absolutely and completely ecstatic. Hikaru reaches over to where he dropped the still open container of lube and takes as much of it as he can hold. He manages to slide his slicked hand under Kirk’s ass, sloppy and imprecise- but also glorious because now his body can work with Kirk’s momentum instead of against it. He grabs Kirk’s hips then, one hand still wet, and he thrusts up into Kirk as Kirk slams himself down and Kirk cries out as Hikaru is buried inside of him. Kirk presses himself backwards and clenches his ass and Hikaru feels himself shift inside of Kirk, then Kirk relaxes and opens and he raises himself up and then slams down again, and again, and when he looks down at Hikaru there is blood on his lips and his eyes are blue fire.

Hikaru loses all sense then, he plants his feet and drives up into Kirk as hard as he can, the force of it stuns Kirk a little and so Hikaru pushes himself up and over so he can lever himself inside of Kirk and he pounds at him, just fucks into him and through him and Kirk starts screaming, _keening,_ nonsense and sense and vile insults and praise of Hikaru’s name like it’s a holy thing. Hikaru comes deep inside of Kirk, raking his nails down Kirk’s chest, and when he finally slows down and pulls off, his stomach is wet and sticky. Hikaru honestly has no idea when Kirk came the second time. 

He lies there, stunned, and his heart is pounding. 

He can hear Kirk gasping across the wreck they have made of the bed. He covers his face with his hands and just breathes, as the rage and the madness drain out of him until he is empty. When he looks over at Kirk, he sees Kirk bring one hand up to his mouth, slowly, and rub at the blood on his lip. Hikaru feels cold _._ He feels like maybe, really, he should leave, that he probably wants to leave now- to get back to his own rooms and shower. He shifts towards the edge of the bed and sits up.

But then Kirk reaches for him, his face turned to Hikaru’s face, and he is gorgeous and open and genuinely happy, and he says, “Stay?”

So Hikaru stays.


	13. Kirk

The stupid raccoon planet excursion ends just before their first scheduled shore leave. Kirk thinks it is absolutely ridiculous they are scheduling in time to relax from all of this extremely dangerous rock sniffing, but his crew has family they want to see, and the ship has some maintenance due, so they dock in San Francisco for the duration. They could really have gone to any base, and Kirk even suggested they go somewhere closer to the New Vulcan colony or to the more far-flung federation outposts, but Spock insisted. Kirk likes San Francisco just fine, plus the bartenders here mostly already knew him from before the Nero thing so they are less likely to make some big damn deal out of it. After all the paperwork is done and the _Enterprise_ locked down, Kirk heads out to a place near the third-year dorms where he and McCoy used to go. Sure enough, McCoy is already there. Kirk sits down on the stool next to him.

“Where’s Sulu?” says McCoy.

“He’s got family across the bay,” says Kirk. 

“You didn’t go with him?” says McCoy.

“Oh, we’re not really like that,” says Kirk. McCoy frowns, so Kirk thinks maybe he should say something before whatever thought is brewing in McCoy’s head makes it out of his mouth. “Speaking of family, why aren’t you visiting yours?”

“Eh,” says McCoy. “Off-planet. I’ll catch them next shore leave.” They sit there in mutually determined silence. 

“Hey,” says Kirk. “That girl over there is checking you out.”

McCoy turns. “No, you idiot, don’t look right at her, she’ll know we talked about her.” McCoy turns back to Kirk quickly. “Wow, you’re terrible at this.”

“Don’t get on my case, Jim. I was married, then I was getting a divorce, then I met you.”

Kirk huffs. “Okay, here,” he shifts to his left. “Now turn to face me, smooth, natural, good. You can see her just out of the corner of your eye.”

McCoy manages to look sideways in the most conspicuous way possible. Kirk stifles a grin. “Which one?” he says, horsely, not moving his lips. 

“Third from the end,” says Kirk in a stage whisper. He holds up three fingers.

McCoy rolls his eyes, which, when combined with his awkward side glancing, almost makes him lose his balance. Kirk snorts into his beer. 

“Oh, hello,” says McCoy.

“You finally see the girl?” says Kirk.

“Jim, that is not a _girl._ That is a _lady.”_ He reaches for the bar to push himself to his feet.

“No- wait, what are you doing?” says Kirk.

“I am going to go talk to her,” says McCoy, exasperated. “Isn’t that the point of this exercise?”

“Bones, Jesus, sit down.” Kirk grabs his arm. McCoy drops back to the stool. “Okay, yes, that is the point, but you can’t just go over there, women think that’s creepy. I should know. I get slapped for it all the time.” McCoy rolls his eyes again but manages to stay upright this time. “You have to prime the pump.”

“You always have such a way with words,” says McCoy, but he doesn’t try to get up again, so Kirk counts that as a win. 

Kirk signals the bartender. “My friend here,” he points to McCoy, “wants to send a drink to the lady at the end of the bar.”

“White wine?” says the bartender to McCoy. 

“Uh, sure,” says McCoy. “Yes.”

The bartender nods and pulls out a glass.

“Now what?” says McCoy

“Now we wait. No, fuck, Bones, stop looking at her! Wait until - there, see, the bartender is bringing it, okay, now, turn and smile.”

McCoy grimaces in her general direction. Kirk kicks him. He breaks into a toothy sort of grin, then waves. Kirk puts his head in his hands. 

“How in the world did you ever get married?” says Kirk.

“Do not doubt the charm,” says McCoy. “I got it from here, thanks.” Kirk looks up. The woman is … she’s smiling at McCoy. And blushing. McCoy raises his eyebrows, and she nods. “Don’t wait up,” says McCoy, mostly out of habit. He pats Kirk on the back and stands. Kirk cannot believe that actually worked.

McCoy looks at Kirk for a moment, considering.

“You going to be alright?” he says, and his voice is serious. Kirk raises an eyebrow. “Of course you are. You are the luckiest goddamn asshole I know.” McCoy’s shoulders relax, and he grins, but the grin is a bit tight.

“Go on,” says Kirk. “Before that lady comes to her senses.”

“Do me a favor, though,” McCoy says. “Call Sulu.” And then he turns, and he’s gone.

* * *

“Anything else?”

“Hmm?” Kirk looks up, startled. His eyes focus on the bartender, then at the row of glasses in front of him. “Yes, ah, no, maybe not.” 

“Alright,” says the bartender. “It’s last call in a few minutes.”

Kirk nods, then looks around. The bar is mostly empty, all the other patrons long paired up and gone. _Oh, what the hell,_ he thinks. He reaches for his communicator to call Hikaru. He has it flipped open before he realizes he doesn’t know how to reach him except by calling the _Enterprise_ main board. He never asked.

“Lucky my ass,” says Kirk, to himself.  He signals the bartender and raises two fingers.

The bartender nods.


	14. Sulu

Hikaru knows something is wrong the minute he gets back on board the _Enterprise._ Still, as he goes through the corridors trying to find someone important enough to know what is going on, becoming more panicked with every confused and angry crewmember he encounters, he tries to tell himself that he’s wrong. He finally corners Chekov down in maintenance, who looks downright thrilled to see him, but when he asks Chekov what the hell is happening Chekov’s smile fades and he looks very, very frightened. He blinks at Hikaru for a moment, then checks down the corridors in both directions before he pulls him into the supply closet. He explains, in clipped tones, that Captain Kirk is in the medbay. No one had heard from him since McCoy left him in a bar fifty-two hours ago and then his comm went offline and somehow Spock found him, in an alley, beaten within an inch of his life. And then Chekov’s voice drops to a bare whisper, which Hikaru thinks is unnecessary considering they are already in a goddamn closet, until Chekov tells Hikaru that Spock and McCoy were looking for him. 

“Me?” says Hikaru. 

“Yes,” says Chekov. 

“Oh,” says Hikaru. He is about to ask why when he looks at Chekov and sees the sheer terror in his eyes. Now is not the time to be demure. So instead he just says, “Okay.”

“Zhey are in the medbay,” says Chekov. 

“Okay, right,” says Hikaru. He presses the button to open the door panel, but he hesitates before he walks out.

“Uh, Pavel?” he says.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I just…uh, you didn’t need to tell me this, but you did. So I appreciate it.”

“Sure,” says Chekov. He waits for Hikaru to leave, not wanting anyone to see them together, and that, of all of this, is what scares Hikaru the most.

* * *

He doesn’t really need to say much, it turns out. He finds Spock, McCoy, and Scotty in a conference room just off medbay. Spock takes one look at him and leaves, firing orders to Scotty and McCoy as he crosses the room. He says something about holding Hikaru there and implementing a delay, but Hikaru can’t really listen over the sudden rush in his ears. He sits down. Scotty nods at him, nods at McCoy, and follows Spock out the door.

“His communicator went offline,” says McCoy.

Hikaru looks down at the table.

“I suppose I don’t need to tell you what that might mean,” says McCoy.

And he doesn’t. Hikaru was on the bridge the time that Ensign Jacobs went off alone during an expedition, quite against orders, slipped on a rock and knocked himself out. His communicator fell into a ravine, hit every rock on the way down, and then bounced into a river and they were still able to get enough of a signal to triangulate Jacobs’s location and rescue him. Kirk either disabled his or… 

“He’ll be fine,” says McCoy. “He usually is.”

“Sure,” says Hikaru, and what’s weird about it is that McCoy isn’t trying to convince himself. He’s trying to convince Hikaru. He’s trying to keep Hikaru calm. Hikaru looks at McCoy again, and he realizes that it’s not actually just the case that McCoy has assumed already that Kirk is not fine. It’s that at some point McCoy actually accepted the fact that Kirk was never, actually, fine, that Kirk would always end up in this place somehow, that disappearing during shore leave and being beaten almost to death is pretty much as “fine” as James T. Kirk is ever going to be.

The door slides open and Spock comes in.

“Doctor McCoy,” says Spock. “Have you gotten any additional information?”

“Spock, don’t,” says McCoy. “He doesn’t know anything. I told you.”

Spock turns to Hikaru then. Hikaru understands why Spock is such a good science officer, because right now he feels like a specimen.

“What happened to the Captain?” says Spock.

“I don’t know,” says Hikaru.

“He did not contact you?”

“No.”

Spock turns to McCoy. McCoy shrugs. “I only told him to do it, Spock. Doesn’t mean he listened.” Spock is looking at McCoy and he is positively bristling. Hikaru doesn’t understand.

“Sir?” he asks, and then he clears his throat because that came out a little squeakier than he intended. “Commander?”

“Yes, Mister Sulu?”

“Is it possible Jim-“ and for some reason Hikaru’s use of Kirk’s first name makes Spock flinch- “that Jim just, you know, went on a bender? It is shore leave.”

“Explain.” Spock’s voice is not louder but Hikaru gets the distinct impression he is being yelled at.

“Uh, a bender,” says Hikaru. “Went out to a few bars, got really drunk, got in a fight? You know how it is.”

“Mister Sulu, I do not pretend to understand the fascination humans have with imbibing alcohol or with the reduction in inhibition and logic such consumption produces. You presume things far above your intelligence and your station.” And he is still looking at McCoy, as if Hikaru is not so much an object of fascination as he is a child allowed, briefly, to overhear grown-up conversation. “If this was a matter of the Captain being as you say, ‘on a bender,’ be assured that Doctor McCoy and I would not be so concerned.”

“Spock,” says McCoy. “Lighten up. He’s just trying to help.” McCoy turns to Hikaru. “What Spock here is trying to say is that we have reason to think that Captain Kirk was targeted. There are a lot of folks who are not happy with the way things shook out after Nero.”

“Here?” says Hikaru. “He’s gotten threats here?”

“Well,” says McCoy, and his voice is bruised. “No. He didn’t think we were in any danger on Earth, especially so close to a Starfleet base.” He frowns. “ _I_ didn’t think we were in any danger.” His voice breaks. “God damn bureaucrats, they just- they never tell us anything, and Jim-”

“Doctor McCoy.” Spock shifts in his chair. “I will remind you that Mister Sulu does not have security clearance, nor is his presence here a courtesy. I am simply asking for his input because I do not have the regular access to observe the Captain and his behavior that he has.” Hikaru isn’t absolutely certain, but he’s pretty sure he was just called a whore. 

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Spock raises an eyebrow as he looks down at the table, and Hikaru decides that is good enough and goes on: “Exactly where do you get off talking about me like that? After what he’s done- what he’s gone through for you, you have no-” Hikaru thinks of Kirk’s blood on his face and the taste of it in his mouth and suddenly his rage is in his throat and choking him. He stands up and pounds his hand on the table. “Spock, dammit, _look_ at me.”

“Good God, man, do you have a death wish?” McCoy hisses.

“That is enough, Doctor McCoy _._ ” Spock pulls his shoulders back. “Mister Sulu, I understand that this is difficult for you, but I ask you to keep your emotions in check.” Hikaru tries to swallow but his throat isn’t working right. He looks at Spock, who is now looking somewhere off to the left of McCoy, calm as anything, like this is just a routine mission, as if Jim Kirk isn’t lying two rooms away hooked up to monitors and being worked over by regenerators. Spock has shown more concern for rocks and moss and plant pollen than he is showing now. Hikaru balls his fists. What the hell is Spock even still doing here? He’s got a sterling record. He could transfer to any ship he wanted based on that alone. Hell, he could _captain_ any ship. Yet he’s stayed here, as the _Enterprise_ has been sent farther and farther into space. He’s stayed there and picked over the dead sand and the boring bullshit planets and never once, not once, tried to understand the pain this caused Kirk.

“You are a heartless fucking _machine_ ,” says Hikaru.

Spock turns to him then, and Hikaru looks him in the eye, and what he sees there shakes him all the way down. Oh, he really should resign as navigator, because he has been ridiculous and foolish and absolutely, utterly blind. Because he’s right- Spock could have done it, he could have gone to any ship in the ‘Fleet, he and Nyota could have had their pick of assignments, but Spock never once asked for a transfer. Not once. And all this time Hikaru thought it was just because he loved the rocks and the moss and the plant pollen in space more than his own ambition, loved the search for new knowledge regardless of how trivial that knowledge seemed in the scheme of things, chose it over his wife’s wishes to be closer to home and the struggle of his newly endangered species and the bigotry that threatened to pull their fragile existence apart. But Hikaru was wrong. Hikaru was so assured of his own insightfulness and so dazed by his own love for Jim Kirk that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him, what was right in front of them all.

Spock presses his lips together. Then, in clipped tones, he says, “if you have nothing of worth to add, you may leave.”

Hikaru wants to apologize, but it seems… dead. So he just says, “Sir, I would like to stay.“

“Thank you, Mister Sulu. It is not necessary.” Spock turns away. “I will be with the Captain when he awakes.” 

And just like that, Hikaru Sulu is summarily dismissed.


	15. Kirk and Sulu

Scotty’s delay tactic worked a little too well, it seems, and the _Enterprise_ is dry-docked for almost a week making repairs. Hikaru doesn’t visit Kirk in sickbay. He doesn’t visit him in his quarters once he has been discharged. And when Kirk is back in the regular rotation, Hikaru swaps shifts so he’s never on with him or Spock, and he doesn’t linger on the bridge after his shifts. It just seems easier that way.

Kirk, for his part, doesn’t tell Starfleet Command what happened to him. He doesn’t tell anyone. He had the sense, drunk as he was, to disable his own communicator so they couldn’t track it, McCoy’s team has made sure he has no scars, and even deepest of the bruises fades with time. The only record of it is in his own memory, fuzzed by alcohol, and he’s going to keep it that way.

It takes about six days for Kirk to get Hikaru alone. It happens, predictably, in the gym. Kirk is passing through as has been his habit lately, when he hears Hikaru shouting as he runs through drills. He figures out which sparring room it is and tries the door. It is unlocked. 

When the door opens Hikaru stops his drills and waits. Kirk seems smaller, somehow, and there is something in his face that might be fear or apprehension. He seems contrite. 

Until he lunges forward and swings at Hikaru’s face. 

Hikaru jumps back, Kirk’s fist whistling as it passes.

“What the hell?”

Kirk growls and jumps forward again. Hikaru dodges, but Kirk manages to grab onto one of his legs and destabilizes him. Hikaru twists and pushes enough to dislodge Kirk’s grip. Kirk snarls and barely regains his balance before he lunges again.

“Fight back!” yells Kirk. “Fight back, damn you!”

“I don’t want to hur-” Hikaru is gasping.

“I don’t care,” says Kirk. “Just _fight back_.”

“NO!” says Hikaru, and he finally gets enough traction to grab Kirk’s wrist and turn it. Kirk falls to one knee. Hikaru moves behind him and presses his knee into Kirk’s back, twisting his arm back so that Kirk’s struggling threatens to dislocate it. He leans down to Kirk’s ear. “I am not going to hurt you.”

“Fuck you,” says Kirk, and goes limp. 

“No,” says Hikaru.

“Please,” says Kirk, quietly.

“No, Jim,” says Hikaru. He lets go of Kirk’s wrist and Kirk falls to the floor. Hikaru drops to his knees beside him. Kirk curls up into a ball against the mat. 

They sit there for a while, breathing.

“I fucked him, you know,” says Kirk.

“Who?” says Hikaru, but he knows already.

“Don’t play dumb,” says Kirk. “It just insults both of us.”

Hikaru closes his eyes. “When?”

“It was before, if that makes it any better,” says Kirk. He knows it doesn’t.

“Now you are the one playing dumb,” says Hikaru.

“Technically?” says Kirk. “The summit. Uhura left before we got to the feasting part, and then they served some sort of Vulcan delicacy, and he got… well, drunk, I suppose. Emotional. And he was angry that Uhura left, and sad, and just…” Kirk shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Technically?” says Hikaru.

“Right,” says Kirk. He looks at Hikaru, and his face is equal parts mischievous and ashamed. “The summit was when the actual technical fucking happened. But the whole thing started when I got him relieved as Captain.” 

Hikaru remembers when Spock throttled Kirk. In hindsight, he clearly recognizes it for what it was, but even at the time, without intimate knowledge of Kirk’s sexual predilections, Hikaru was struck by the sense it all made. He sighs. 

He really hates being this guy. 

“Sure,” he says. “But Jim, really, be honest. It started back at the Academy, the day he accused you of cheating on his test.”

Kirk can hear the resignation in Hikaru’s voice. But when he looks at Hikaru, he can see his face is full of forgiveness, and an indescribable fondness. Bones is right, damn him. Kirk really is the luckiest asshole in the whole fucking universe. “Yes,” he says. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I am,” says Hikaru. They sit quietly for a minute. 

“You are totally screwed,” says Hikaru.

“Yes,” says Kirk. “I know.”

“Because he’s like, married,” says Hikaru, unnecessarily. “Like, really married.”

“I know,” says Kirk. “And again, fuck you.”

“Yes, Captain,” says Hikaru. He sighs again, and then pushes up to his feet. “Now what?”

Kirk flips over onto his back. “They’re sending us back out.”

“Great,” says Hikaru. “How will you ever stand the excitement?”

“I’ll manage,” says Kirk, sitting up and eyeing Hikaru’s crotch. “I don’t suppose we could…” he wiggles his eyebrow.

“Don’t push your luck,” says Hikaru, but he offers his hand. “I will kick your ass.”

“I look forward to it,” says Kirk.


End file.
